Chapter 172

Chapter 172: Star Compass

Wang Jie looked at Du Xian. “Revival Pill and Thunder-Seal Pill together come to 220 million starstones. No discount at all?”

Du Xian’s smile turned syrupy. “Guest is a big customer. Of course there’s a discount—twenty percent off.”

Wang Jie nodded. “That’s more like it.”

“But it depends on what Guest wants,” Du Xian added softly.

“What do you mean?”

“I can give Guest a piece of intelligence for free,” Du Xian said, lowering her voice, “or Guest can take the discount. Choose one.”

“I want the discount,” Wang Jie said instantly.

Du Xian stared at him. “Guest is sure?”

“Completely sure.”

After being tricked twice, Wang Jie trusted cash more than “free” intelligence.

Du Xian sighed. “Fine. Anything else?”

“Yes,” Wang Jie said. “Sell me the intelligence you were about to give me.”

Du Xian’s expression went blank.

As a merchant, she could play with words, but she couldn’t make up numbers.

In the end, she named a reasonable price: ten million starstones.

Wang Jie’s mood brightened at once. With the discount, he saved 44 million starstones. Buying the same intelligence for 10 million meant he netted 34 million.

Perfect.

The intelligence Du Xian sold him was simple: Su Le was Bai Ye’s disciple.

Useful or useless depended on how he used it—but because it involved a celestial master, it was worth the price. In the Zhi Academy, besides Xu Yang, Master Bian, and a handful of others, few knew the truth.

Wang Jie and Su Le had once both listened to that strange music. Afterward, Su Le had treated him with deep reverence.

Yes. This could be used.

“Thank you,” Wang Jie said. “Goodbye.”

Du Xian watched him leave, amused and mildly annoyed. Trick him again next time? It wouldn’t be so easy.

With pills purchased, Wang Jie moved on to protective gear.

The Star Vault Exchange carried such things, but he didn’t trust their selection. He wanted specialists.

So he went to Shi Jia.

Shi Jia was delighted to see him. He recommended a long list before Wang Jie finally chose Thousand-Spirit Armor.

It was forged from seventh-grade materials and could withstand attacks from a Hundred-Star Realm powerhouse. It could also be infused with starforce to become a chen artifact, but without a chen refiner to perform star-refining, it could only be sold as an ordinary tool.

Perfect for Wang Jie. He cultivated lockforce—chen artifacts didn’t suit him anyway.

After a discount, it cost 52 million starstones.

“If this were a chen artifact,” Wang Jie asked, “what would it sell for?”

“A four-tribulation chen artifact,” Shi Jia said. “At least a hundred million.”

“The difference is that huge?” Wang Jie frowned. “Why not find a chen refiner to star-refine it?”

Shi Jia gave a helpless smile. “Where would I find enough chen refiners? The few in the fourth nebula are all in Black-White Heaven. They won’t come to the Zhi Academy.”

He shook his head. “And even if one did, the cost to star-refine a four-tribulation chen artifact would exceed the price gap. It wouldn’t be worth it for us. If we couldn’t sell it afterward, we’d lose even more.”

He spread his hands. “Master understands—this is the Zhi Academy. No one buys four-tribulation chen artifacts here.”

Wang Jie understood.

Shi Jia had good materials, but no way to refine them into true artifacts. He didn’t want to sell the materials outright, so he forged tools instead.

Cheap for Wang Jie.

Next, Wang Jie went to Xiao Jian Mu to buy formation scrolls.

Formations were life-saving. He wanted something that could withstand a Roaming-Star Realm powerhouse, and the battle strength couldn’t be low.

Xiao Jian Mu welcomed him warmly and brought out scroll after scroll, but none satisfied.

The cheap ones could only withstand 100,000 or 150,000. The best of that batch barely reached 200,000.

The strongest could withstand Hundred-Star Realm—but the price was obscene.

Finally, Xiao Jian Mu produced one scroll and hesitated. “This one meets Master’s needs, but it’s terribly overpriced.”

Wang Jie looked down. “Spacetime Corridor Array Scroll?”

“It involves time and space power,” Xiao Jian Mu explained. “Once time and space are involved, the price doubles.”

He sighed. “But its might is mediocre. It can only barely trap a Roaming-Star Realm powerhouse with 300,000 battle strength. Awkwardly high, awkwardly low, and far too expensive—so it’s been sitting here.”

“How much?” Wang Jie asked.

“Three hundred and thirty million.”

Wang Jie’s hand twitched. “Say that again.”

Xiao Jian Mu grimaced. “That’s the listed price. The owner set it, not me. If Master truly wants it, I can let it go for three hundred million.”

Wang Jie was speechless. A four-tribulation chen artifact cost around a hundred million, yet a Roaming-Star Realm formation scroll was priced at three times that. No wonder it hadn’t sold.

How many people in the Zhi Academy could afford it?

Xiao Jian Mu put the scroll away again. “Plenty of people are interested. They want to study time and space through it.”

He gave a bitter laugh. “Then they see the price.”

Wang Jie’s heart stirred. “You can study time and space through it?”

Time and space were terrifying powers. Not just Full-Star Realm or Roaming-Star Realm—even Hundred-Star Realm rarely touched them. It was the sort of thing only those above the Star-Refining Realm might glimpse.

If he could brush against it early…

Xiao Jian Mu nodded. “You can sense it. When Master touched the scroll, didn’t your palm go numb? That’s the sign of unstable spacetime.”

“I’ll buy it,” Wang Jie said.

Xiao Jian Mu blinked. “Master truly wants it?”

He hesitated, then warned honestly, “Even if you can sense it constantly, that doesn’t mean you can cultivate it. In fact, it’s almost impossible.”

Wang Jie still bought it. A chance to brush against time and space was too rare.

And if it proved useless, he could sell it later. He’d lose money, sure—but he could afford the loss.

After spending another three hundred million, his funds were dangerously thin.

Just as he was about to leave, his gaze caught on something in the shop’s corner.

Qi.

A faint current, not weak at all.

He walked over and found a dust-covered star compass.

Palm-sized, with a fixed needle and intricate markings, it looked like it had been forgotten for ages. Yet qi circulated inside, and only the occasional flare had made it visible.

“What is this?” Wang Jie asked.

Xiao Jian Mu lowered his voice. “Someone consigned it here a long time ago. I can’t understand it—and I don’t understand why it’s priced so high.”

Wang Jie pointed. “How high?”

Xiao Jian Mu looked embarrassed. “Master, it’s useless. It’s been gathering dust. Don’t ask.”

He tried to wave Wang Jie away. “Let’s go. If anything good comes in, I’ll contact Master at once.”

Wang Jie picked up the star compass and wiped away the dust. “I feel fate between us. Don’t you think we match perfectly?”

Xiao Jian Mu paused, then couldn’t deny it—there was something almost comically appropriate about a fortune-teller holding a compass.

He sighed. “Even if you match, you can’t match it with one hundred million starstones.”

Wang Jie stiffened. “How much?”

“One hundred million,” Xiao Jian Mu admitted, sounding ashamed. “The consignor is stubborn—no bargaining.”

Wang Jie set it down slowly.

Xiao Jian Mu hurried to reassure him. “Master, don’t worry. People consign things with me all the time. If anything truly good appears, I’ll tell Master.”

Wang Jie frowned. “You sell tools. Why does your shop feel like an auction house? Why do people consign things with you?”

“Because they don’t know how to sell what they’ve found,” Xiao Jian Mu said. “They can’t open their own shop. Auction house fees are high, and items often fail to sell. If it fails, you wait a long time for the next auction.”

He shrugged. “So they come here. Many shops in the Four-Dao Market accept consignments.”

“And you won’t just close up and run?”

“Consignments are certified by the Four-Dao Market,” Xiao Jian Mu said. “You pay the market a fee. If I run, the Four-Dao Market compensates, so no one runs. The Four-Dao Market has real influence in the Zhi Academy.”

Wang Jie understood: the seller split what would have been an auction fee into portions—one for the shop, one for the Four-Dao Market, and the rest kept as savings.

And there was protection.

“This star compass went through the auction house,” Xiao Jian Mu added, “but after failing to sell three times, they refused it. So it ended up with me.”

“And the Spacetime Corridor Array Scroll?” Wang Jie asked.

“Also failed three times.”

Wang Jie looked at the star compass again. So this shop was where the auction house’s rejects went.

Still…

“I’ll buy it,” Wang Jie said.

Xiao Jian Mu stared. “Really?”

Wang Jie paid on the spot.

There was no bargaining. The consignor refused.

When he left, he was effectively broke.

Thinking back to the first time he’d star-refined for Jiang You Sheng for only ten thousand starstones, he felt almost dizzy at the contrast.

He returned to his shop and immediately began studying the star compass.

He’d spent one hundred million on it. It had better be worth it.

A few days later, he finally figured it out: the star compass required qi input to activate.

Once fed qi, it displayed the amount of qi within a certain range. The range expanded depending on how much qi he poured in.

It could “see” qi for him.

No wonder no one here bought it. In the fourth nebula, there were probably very few people who even understood qi—much less knew how to use it.

Wang Jie poured qi into the star compass and watched the viewing range expand in rings, one circle after another. With each expansion, the internal map shrank, zooming outward.

He spotted a thick surge of qi not far from his shop—Roaming-Star Realm, judging by its intensity.

He expanded further and found another Roaming-Star Realm.

Around his shop, most were Ten Seals cultivators, with a small number of Star-Breaking Realm and a few Full-Star Realm.

Everyone had qi. Roaming-Star Realm qi was especially abundant.

They simply couldn’t see it.

Wang Jie almost pitied them.

They were walking around with a hidden weapon they didn’t even know existed.